


forever wouldn’t be long enough.

by scorpiusshug



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: AU, Albus is an artist, Alternate Universe, Angst, Cursed Child AU, F/M, Ghosts, Harry Potter AU, Heartbreaking, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Malfoy Manor, Not Cursed Child Compliant, Potters - Freeform, Sad, Scorbus, Scorpius Malfoy - Freeform, Summer Fic, Weasleys, albus potter - Freeform, dead Scorpius, draco redemption arc haha, drasotria, i apologise in advance for this, james sirius potter and lily Luna potter are angels, scorbus emotional, scorbus sad, summer scorbus, they are soulmates you cannot change my mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 07:44:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20188756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiusshug/pseuds/scorpiusshug
Summary: Summer.The potter clan move house, and albus makes a new friend.





	forever wouldn’t be long enough.

Forever wouldn’t be long enough. 

Who’s stupid idea had this been anyway? Albus wondered to himself as he rested his head against the car window, outside the landscapes floated delicately past him in full technicolour. It was probably his mum’s idea, a fresh start, a house that we could call our own, with a garden so big they could play family quidditch. When they brought it up at the dinner table one night both James and Lily had been incredibly enthusiastic about the idea and now, just a month later, the Potter clan were moving in. 

Albus hadn’t even looked around the place, supposedly it was rather old- no one had lived there for a good few years, so it would be the perfect summer challenge for Harry and Ginny to renovate.   
His mum had tried to convince him on the idea of living in the middle of nowhere- he would have a private library and plenty of space on the grounds to wander and be on his own, but Albus didn’t want to leave his childhood home. 

His childhood was full of laughter, jokes shared with James and playing make believe with Lily. The forest at the bottom of their garden had watched them as they became astronauts, fairies, explorers, dragons and pirates. The memories swirled around his mind and dropped down his cheeks in the salty form of bittersweet tears. He didn’t want to leave this house because it was the only place he had ever really felt happy. 

On September the first, he had headed for the hogwarts express with a sense of excitement in his heart. He was going to hogwarts, he was going to meet people who would become his friends for life and perhaps even find his soulmate like his parents had, he was going to learn magic, he was going to be a fucking wizard, and he couldn’t wait.   
Excitement slowly was washed away with a sense of nervous terror as he sat in the compartment of the train by himself, worrying about how he could ever live up to the expectations of his father. The nervous terror became a black cloud of nothingness after the sorting ceremony.  
“A Potter? In slytherin?”  
“He’s nothing like his father.”  
“Pathetic Potter, can’t even ride a broomstick!”   
“The slytherin squib’s at it again.”

It followed him around wherever he went. Eventually he got used to the emptiness. He would sit alone by the lake and sketch. Countless pages of his sketchbook were filled with monsters and heartache and anger and a desperate need to be loved. 

Hogwarts had always been a place of loneliness for Albus. Nobody had wanted to befriend the useless son of the boy who lived, so now Albus pushed everyone away. He pushed his family far away from him, James was lucky if they made eye contact in the corridors, and Lily would occasionally pull him in for a hug when she found him sat alone in the grounds, but could never get him out of the lonely rut he had got himself stuck in. Ginny would write to him every week and update him on how the plants he had grown in his greenhouse were doing, and send him photos of their little black cat - his name was Yoda- a name picked out by Lily after Teddy had shown them the muggle Star Wars movies when he baby-sat the Potter kids. Albus missed his cat terribly and secretly kept all the photos in his bedside drawer, but only ever wrote back letters a few sentences long. 

Pebbles crunched underneath the tires of the Potters muggle car, it had been a birthday present to Ginny from her muggle loving father. Trees stretched out around the house in enchanting hues of green, framing the beautiful Victorian era house perfectly. 

Albus’s siblings chucked a quaffle about between them as they walked up towards the large oak door, James as an attempt to involve him, threw Albus the quaffle, of course he had no hand eye coordination and managed to drop the thing. Just another way he didn’t fit in with his stupid quidditch playing family, he thought to himself. 

Cobwebs had spun their way across most of the furniture, the kitchen he was standing in even looked like one that belonged to some national trust house that he had been dragged around one sunday afternoon in the typical british summer rain. Ginny pointed him in the direction of his room and he headed up the stairs by himself. A stepladder was protruding down from the attic that he was about to call his bedroom. 

In the week that passed, he had spread his belongings out across the room, muggle fairy lights adorned the ceiling casting a soft glow around the room- they had been a present from his muggle obsessed grandfather- and Albus loved them dearly. In the corner of the room was a record player that had been bewitched to let the music be controlled by his mood, next to it was his desk and his art supplies lay scattered around it, half finished self portraits lay helpless on the wooden floor.   
Albus was sat in his green Weasley sweater - Molly had made it for him for Christmas after he was sorted into slytherin, Albus loved his grandma but in the blur of burgundy, maroon and crimson it made him stick out like a sore thumb. Everyone could spot the slytherin ‘squib’ in amongst the excitement and enthusiasm of his family of lions. 

He couldn’t remember exactly what had been said- the afternoon had been a blur; Harry had come and tried to have a conversation with him about “making some effort at school” and at least “trying to fit in with his family” and now the words that Harry had let slip in a flood of anger ‘well there are times when I wished you weren’t my son’ polluted the room, hanging around him, swallowing him up whole. He had collapsed upon his bed in a wave of emotions and the tears had dampened his pillow, the taste of disappointment salty on his lips. 

Suddenly a voice broke through the silence “Awfully sorry to bother you, I- er couldn’t help but notice you seem a bit upset and I was wondering if you were okay? Sorry to barge in like this,, errr this was probably a stupid idea agh,, I’ll go..” stuttered a voice. Albus looked up, in the corner of his room was a boy. His skin was incredibly pale, he looked ethereal glowing dimly in the light cast on him by Albus’s fairy lights. His hair was an icey blonde and his grey eyes were full of constellations and galaxies spinning out from the iris.   
“Wait” Albus found himself calling out, “Who are you and how the fuck did you get in my room?”  
The blonde boy’s face had lit up when Albus called out and launched himself into his little speech “Hello, hi, hello I’m s- Scorpius.” He took a second to think it through and stuck out his hand “Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.” Albus nervously stuck out his own hand and went to shake the other boys, when he tried to grab a hold of it he jumped back in shock, his hand passed straight through him and he felt as if he had just been dunked in a bucket of ice cold water.   
“Ah sorry, I’m s- sorry, I’m still not used to this whole dead thing!” He whispered.

Dead. The boy was dead. To Albus that explained rather a lot- of course the house his parents decided to buy was haunted! It also explained how the boy had managed to get past all the wards his parents had set up to protect the house and why he was so cold to the touch. 

Albus realised he hadn’t responded, he was still in a state of shock, “I’m Albus Potter” he murmured.   
“Albus?” Inquired the blonde boy. “I had a teacher named Albus at hogwarts, before I got sick.”  
“Albus Dumbledore?”  
“The one and the same.” He stood silent for a moment, processing the information. “You’re named after him, I’m presuming he’s dead now?”  
Albus looked at the concern that swam around the boy’s eyes, he should be blocking him out, just as he did with everyone else around him, but there was something enchanting about Scorpius that made him want to carry on the conversation, and forget about all the insults that had swirled around his room.   
“Er, yeah, he died during the second war, a year before the Battle of Hogwarts.” 

“The second war?” Scorpius asked with curiosity dripping off his tounge. “Grindelwald got that bad huh?”  
Albus looked at him in complete disbelief, “Grindelwald, was defeated by Dumbledore many many years ago Scorpius, if you don’t mind me asking, when exactly was it that you died?” 

“I- er, I haven’t particularly been able to keep track of the time, but my sixteenth birthday was October the twentieth 1926, and I didn’t make it to my seventeenth.” He said with a nervous sort of laugh.   
Albus let out a shocked “oh.”   
Scorpius had launched himself into a a mini ramble “Well you see, I started to get rather ill in my fifth year at hogwarts, the hospital wing became like my second home, I can’t say the boys in the slytherin dorm missed me too much, I was always up late studying by the light of my wand, they used to say the scratching of my quill kept them up, well, that was one of the nicer things they said, mostly they just hexed me, I doubt any of them cared that much when I died- apart from the fact that they lost their favourite target.” 

“Scorpius thats terrible” Albus exclaimed. “If I had a time turner, you bet I would go back and hex the fuck out of them, only I’m not particularly good at any spells, and I’m sure it would backfire.”   
Scorpius’s face lit up the room as his lips stretched into a grin.   
“I’ve never been the hexing type” Scorpius said “ I prefer the fantastic tactic of hiding behind a book and hoping they all go away!”   
It was Albus’s turn to laugh, in all of the muggle horror stories and films that he spent many summer’s watching in his room, ghosts were meant to be terrifying, flickering lights on and off, appearing behind you in the mirror and cursing you and your family, but here was Scorpius only appearing in his room to cheer him up, a nervous bundle of dorkiness with the widest smile Albus had ever seen. 

“The summer holiday after my fifth year, things got bad, I could barely leave my bed and so mum and dad decided that they ought to pull me out of Hogwarts, so I could focus on my recovery at home. Mum and Dad never gave up hope, Dad used to take time off of work to try and find different cures and speak to many different witches and wizards across the world, but we soon realised it was a blood curse. No cure was effective.”  
Albus listened intently, he was deeply moved by this poor boy’s story.   
“I spent most of my time reading in the library, or mum would sometimes take me to sit by the lake, or sometimes when I couldn’t sleep at night, dad would show me all the stars on the telescope he got me for my fourteenth birthday- I was studying astronomy you see.”   
“The astronomy tower is one of my favourite parts of Hogwarts.” Albus interjected. “it’s a place where i can go and paint without the boys in Slytherin dorm judging- I’m a Slytherin too.” He added. 

“All of my family have been Slytherins!” Scorpius exclaimed “Although I would have loved to be in Ravenclaw, but I didn’t want to let Dad down and somehow I got in.”   
Albus laughed “I come from a family of Gryffindors- so far I’m the only Slytherin to ever grace the Potter family.”

“Perhaps in another universe we would have attended Hogwarts at the same time- and be FRIENDS.” Scorpius yelped enthusiastically. 

“Do you want to sit down?” Albus asked as he noticed Scorpius was still standing in the corner of the room, glowing slightly. “Or do whatever ghosts do to sit down?” Albus added.   
Scorpius wandered over to the bed and crossed his lanky legs as he sat down next to Albus. He was wearing pale green silk pyjamas, which fell loosely around his lanky frame, he looked undernourished- obviously from the months worth of illness. Scorpius obviously caught him staring and said “I know. Pyjamas, how stylish! Unfortunately I didn’t have the energy to get dressed in the last few weeks of my life - and one of the few things I’ve been able to find out about this sort of afterlife existence is that we spirits don’t appear to be able to change our clothes.”   
Gentle laughter echoed around the room.   
“How did you realise?” Albus asked. “That you were a ghost?”  
“I sort of almost didn’t. I went to sleep one night, and then when I woke up I could see my body, lying there, pale and still. I was rather freaked out and started screaming for mother and father. They couldn’t hear me and our house elf willow found my body. I watched them sob over me and watched as my body was levitated out of the house.”

“Holy shit.”

“My parents moved out of the house a few weeks after my death. I haven’t a clue where they moved too but I think they just needed to get away, anywhere was better than here with the memories of their dead son haunting them - quite literally- around every corner. I never revealed myself to them. I don’t think I could.”  
“And that’s it?” Albus gasped. “You’ve spent all these years alone?”  
“The years tend to pass by rather quickly now, days drift into one another and the sunrises and sunsets all bleed into the next, I don’t think ghosts can sleep you see. I’ve spent these past however many years kicking myself that I never studied the paranormal whilst I was at Hogwarts,back when I could still pick up a book.” 

“You can’t read now?” 

“I can’t turn the pages.” Scorpius’s face had fallen, he looked completely miserable. “I miss it terribly, it was the one thing that kept my alive - subtle irony now that I’m dead.” 

“Well, first thing tomorrow, come to the library with me, we’ll choose a book and I’ll read it too you. Okay?” Albus had no idea what had possessed him to say that, but there was something about the despair in Scorpius’s face that urged him to suggest it. 

Albus’s digital clock flashed up with the time ‘2:00am’ breaking the spell that had kept the pair of them entranced with each other, completely apart from the real world.   
“I suppose I should let you get to sleep.” Scorpius whispered. 

“Goodnight Scorpius, thanks for barging into my room like that, I’m very glad to have met you.” Albus replied. 

“Goodnight Albus.”

And with that Albus switched off his fairy lights, and drifted into the gentle arms of sleep, the happiest he’d been in years. 

Over the course of the next few days, the boys hardly spent any time apart, Albus would curl up on a bean bag in the library, and read aloud to Scorpius, who held on to every single word, the way the stories dripped off of Albus’s tongue, fairytales and romance and mystery and adventure coming to life in front of his eyes, feeding his imagination in a way it had not been im years. However, sometimes Scorpius would find himself zoning out, focusing on the way Albus’s dark messy hair spilled out, nearly covering his forest green eyes. He let out a subtle chuckle to himself, he had spent the last many years just wishing he could read again, and here he was getting distracted by the small Slytherin boy who was far to engrossed in the magic of the books to notice him staring.

Sometimes the boys would walk around the grounds, and settle by the small pond, watching the dragonflies flit over the murky water, and Albus would sit and sketch: mostly drawings of the boy in front of him, face glowing with joy as he watched the delicate wings of the dragonfly flit by, or the way his face lit up when albus laughed at one of his cheesy jokes, or the reflections of the water in his soft grey eyes. 

Some nights, they would squish up on the window seat, and Scorpius would point out his favourite constellations, and countless facts about space would dribble out of his mouth.   
One evening, they spotted a shooting star, glowing against the deep indigo hues of the night sky.  
“Make a wish albus, you’re supposed to make a wish!” Scorpius had yelped with excitement.  
Albus wished for Scorpius’s happiness,always.   
“What did you wish for?” The blonde boy pestered.   
“You know I can’t tell you, scor.” Albus laughed back. “That would be cheating.”  
The conversation then delved in to dinosaurs: more specifically, how supposedly a meteor had ended them all, and how wouldn’t it be funny if that happened to us, and it wasn’t magic that wiped us all out- but nature.

Scorpius would lead him around the house, pretending to be a tour guide as he pointed out all the little nooks and crannys,secret passageways and hidden rooms. He would launch himself into telling stories about his home, about his prestigious Malfoy ancestors- the tales of betrayal and heartbreak that took place in the rooms that stretched out around him. He told the story of how his parents met- at one of the impressive yet incredibly dull pureblood dinner parties, where Astoria had stood up and asked Draco to dance with her: only instead of taking her hand and delicately twirling around the room like the rest of them- the pair of them stumbled around each other: dancing fast and recklessly, causing a small wave of chaos against the formal conversation that floated absent mindedly around the room.   
He spoke about how the pair of them had become bored with the pureblood ideology and had been vocal about their views at these events- causing Draco’s father to try and kick them out of the house and prevent Draco from inheriting the Malfoy family fortunes. However before he could sign any of the papers he caught dragon pox, and passed away. Narcissa, who now owned the manor, was perfectly happy to allow the pair of them to live there, as she had been spending plenty of time with her sister Andromeda: who had married a muggleborn and agreed that the pureblood ideas and Grindlewalds mantras were wrong.   
Whenever he spoke about his parents,the boys eyes glazed over, albus could tell that he had missed them terribly as they had been scorpius’s only real friends, the only people who could cheer him up after a rough week at hogwarts, when a few too many hexes had pushed him past breaking point, they were the only ones who could calm him down. 

Intrigued by the record player that Albus’s grandfather had given him, Scorpius would often hurl questions at Albus, “so this is muggle? Made without magic?! How do they do that?!” Albus would just laugh and introduce him to his favourite muggle bands: nivarna, arctic monkeys and the stone roses being his all time favourites. Sometimes the pair of them would start dancing stupidly to the music, not caring that the other could see them, and end up collapsing onto albus’s bed in a heap of giggles. 

With Scorpius around, the hurricane of loneliness and anger that wreaked havoc inside of albus’s soul had dulled to a light drizzle, like gentle rain that trickles down the window whilst you sit and read your favourite book. 

One Friday evening saw the house packed with red heads, laughter and screams. Ginny and Harry had offered to host the annual Weasley family summer barbecue. Usually Albus hated these events- he preferred the quiet of his own room, the familiarity of his paintbrush, not the chaos that seemed to spew from his family whenever they were together. But with Scorpius smiling at him encouragingly from the side, he engaged in a conversation with his uncle Charlie about the baby dragons he was currently raising, he had to admit- the pictures were incredibly cute.   
Later that evening when the adults were all relatively tipsy, Albus stole a discarded bottle of half finished firewhiskey as he headed for the lake where Scorpius was sitting.   
“This is my first time drinking this stuff you know.” He told Scorpius as he approached.  
He took a swig of the amber liquid and gasped, it burnt the back of his throat in a way he wasn’t used too, but he decided over all it tasted good.   
“Does it taste nice?” Scorpius asked, laughing as Albus grimmanced at the initial burning sensation once again. “Doesn’t look like it does.”   
“I’d offer you some, but I’m not sure ghosts can drink” Albus laughed.   
“Describe how it tastes?” Scorpius asked.  
Albus thought long and hard about this.   
“I suppose, it sort of tastes like a crackling log fire, on a cold autumn night, like a sunset glowing amber before it fades to black, like a firefly floating in the midsummer breeze.”   
“Wow.” Breathed Scorpius.   
“How come i can see you, and no one else can?” asked Albus. It was a question that had been playing on his mind a lot recently.  
“In all honesty, im not sure al, I think I can sort of choose, you know, who I reveal myself too.”  
“Am I the first?” Albus asked.  
“Yeah, you are.” Scorpius looked distant, like something was playing on his mind.  
“Were you lonely?”   
“I was lonely in life al, not much changed in death, that is, until I met you.”

Perhaps it was the firewhiskey but albus moved his hand to the place where Scorpius’s was. It didn’t matter that his fingers clasped around air, it was an act of reassurance, as he whispered “me too.”

“What’s the thing you want most in the world?” Albus wondered out loud.

“I’d like to know that my parents lived a happy life, that they loved me but moved on, and stayed in love. Maybe to be able to touch again.” He replied. “How about you?”

Albus had to hold his tounge. He wanted to say: ‘you.’ 

But that one uttered word could ruin their whole friendship. Maybe Scorpius would stop showing himself to him if he knew that’s how Albus felt, and he couldn’t risk that, so instead he opted for   
“To be as happy as I have been this summer forever.”

Summer days floated lazily by, filled with conversations- meaningless, yet somehow the most important thing in the world. Albus has introduced Scorpius to the Potter’s cat Yoda, and they watched as his long fluffy black coat stalked the gnomes in the plants, or leaped through the air to try and pounce on the fairies- the fairies always teasing him and floating just out of reach.

The conversation from that gathering replayed on Albus’s mind. The one thing Scorpius wanted was too know his parents had been okay. Albus was constantly trying to think of ways he could do this,until one night, when he was lying in bed, staring at the patterns of the ceiling: google.   
Google, it was obvious. He had learnt about google in his muggle studies classes, it was a sort of magic answer thingy- that could answer questions or bring up facts and newspaper articles about people, almost instantly.   
He pulled out the muggle smartphone he had cast away in his bedside drawer, and opened a web page for “accio” the wizarding google.   
He typed in their names delicately, and clicked on the article that came up. 

After reading, he had learnt that, although the Malfoy line had ended with the pair of them and scorpius, they had both lived happy lives - they moved to France shortly after the news of their sons death- heartbroken, but started a life there. Astoria had gone on to work at a muggle preschool, and Draco had become a muggle literature writer- under a false name.   
The pair of them had stayed out of the troubles with Grindlewald, and the lives of purebloods altogether- and had both peacefully passed away in their sleep, just a year apart from one another.   
The article showed a photo of the pair of them, Astorias rosy cheeks glowing as she smiled up at her husband, face framed by her messy dark hair. Draco was holding on too, what he can only presume was Scorpius’s tiny hand and swinging his son back and forth.   
The time on his phone screen flashed 4:00am and he decided to get some sleep, before telling Scorpius that day. 

That morning he woke up with a sense of excitement, he was going to be able to give Scorpius the thing he wanted most in the world. The day started off as usual, Scorpius sat and watched as Albus painted: this time, he was painting an acrylic of the pair of them, the silhouettes of their bodies against a sunset- a memory trapped in time.   
In the afternoon they went and sat, in their favourite spot by the lake. 

Albus passed the muggle device over to Scorpius “oh,er- what does this do?” Asked Scorpius.  
“Just tap here, and scroll down, you’ll see.”  
A look of confusion appeared on his face, as he struggled to work the phone, one that was soon replaced by a tear trickling down his cheek.   
“Albus, how did, how did you find this?” He stuttered.   
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it scorp, and then last night, I realised I could find out.”  
“t-thank you al, this means everything to me.”

It was then that Albus felt something change. There was a certain chill in the air that struck him to the bone. The sky was darker and rain threatened to pour down on them. 

“Al- do you feel it?” Scorpius sounded scared, and all Albus could do was nod. 

“I feel a, sort of like a pull.” He muttered.

“A pull to where scorp?” 

“I don’t know how to describe it, but a pull to whatever comes next.”

“Comes next?” And then it dawned on Albus. The after life. Holy shit.

“Holy shit.” He uttered. “I’m not sure I can do it without you.”   
His heart was racing, over the past months, Scorpius had become his rock, the person who knew how to cheer him up most, the person who never failed to make him smile, the person who he felt he could talk about anything and everything with, a person who he wasn’t sure he could go on without.   
Scorpius spoke his next words gently, cutting through the rush of thoughts that were attacking his mind.   
“Live Albus, for me. Don’t be sad,think of me from time to time but smile. I want you to run through the rain, taste the bliss of strawberries erupting on your tounge, watch the leaves float lazily from the trees in hues of amber, feel the rush of happiness as the cold bites your cheeks when you step out into the freshly fallen snow, swim in the ocean submerge yourself in the salty water, dance stupidly to your favourite songs like no one’s watching, keep channeling your emotions into your art...”  
Albus’s head was rushing, he was completely speechless, overwhelmed as the tears traced their way down his cheeks. Before he could even think, he cut the blonde boy off  
“Scorpius, I think I might be in love with you.” His words echoed around him, the velocity of what he had just said hit him at full force when the words “I love you too” came crashing out of Scorpius’s mouth. 

Gently the two boys leaned together, although Albus had expected to pass right through the blonde boy, he felt his lips against his own, as delicate as a butterflies wing: but there against his own.   
The kiss lasted for what seemed like a lifetime, but was all too short.   
When Albus opened his eyes, he stood alone.

Rain had finally penetrated the barriers of the clouds and fell down, enveloping Albus.

The boy who had taught him it was okay to open up his heart to love again, taught him it was okay to express his emotions, too not have to be alone was gone. 

For many months, Albus felt a great absence from his life, everywhere he looked he saw Scorpius’s shadow, at Hogwarts he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of adventures they would have got up too if they had been there together.   
His heart ached for the boy, craved to look into his mist drenched eyes one last time, longed to hear his gentle ramblings trickling into his ears.   
But with time, he got better. He learned to let his family in, he let his dad see his paintings, allowed Ginny to spend hours with him gardening in his greenhouse, occasionally he would take his broom and go for a fly with James, collapsing into the mud on the ground whooping with thrill and exhaustion, he would play an elaborate game of exploding snap that Lily and her friends had made up during their third year at Hogwarts with his sister. 

Every so often, the brown haired boy would pack a bag, fill it with a book, some  
paints and his sketchbook, and trek to the hill just beyond his house.   
On that hill lay a singular gravestone.   
Albus would sit and read out loud, whatever book he was reading, or even just read the notes for the exam he was studying for, his voice being carried by the wind.   
Some days he would sit and paint, painting pictures of whatever was going on in his life: his NEWT examinations, his eighteenth birthday party, his new job working at a magical creatures sanctuary and most commonly- one particular blonde boy with grey eyes.   
He would leave the paintings behind and   
he would be there, no matter whether the sun was beating down on him, or the snow littered his eyelashes, turning him a shade of blue. He would leave letters to the boy he loved. He would write about the most mundane things, updating him on Yoda or a new art project he was working on.

Forever would not have been enough time for them both, but he knew he was greatful for the short summer they shared.

Little bundles of forget me not’s clustered around the headstone that read:   
“Here lies Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy  
1910-1926  
‘The ones who love us, never really leave us.’ “

**Author's Note:**

> okay hello guys! if you’ve made it this far I love you! I wanted to let you know I appreciate every single one of you who reads my shitty fics :), hope you liked the subtle timeturner jokes I threw in there, and hope reading this didn’t break your heart like mine did when I wrote it xxxxx


End file.
